“Ouch!” Keles grabbed the wrists of the one on his right arm and whipped the creature around. He smashed its head against the stone wall, then flung its limp body away. The other’s screeching shifted to hooting and its fangs snapped shut, just missing his hand. Keles cracked it over the head with a bronze candlestick, crushing its skull.

Brandishing the candlestick, he ran from the library and took the stairs up two at a time. Two levels up the corridor remained deserted, but the door to the Princess’ apartments stood open. He ran in, and then toward her balcony. He saw Jasai with her back against the railing, her hair platinum in the moonlight, and fear etched on her face.

With a dagger in hand Lady Inyr approached Jasai. She held the blade low, poised for a gutting thrust. She moved easily enough to make clear she knew her business well.

Keles hurled the candlestick. Inyr twisted far more quickly than he would have thought possible. The candlestick passed between her and the Princess, striking sparks from the balustrade before falling to the garden below. Inyr swept forward in its wake, grabbed Jasai’s hair and yanked her head back as she pressed the dagger to the Princess’ throat.

Keles held his hands up. “Don’t do it, Inyr. The Prince would not be pleased.”

The woman sneered at him contemptuously. “Idiot, I do this with the Prince’s approval. If you two were to take the chance to flee, I was to kill her. You are to remain his captive, as you are too valuable to lose.”

“But she’s carrying his child.”

“He can find another broodmare; an Anturasi is far too rare.” Inyr smiled at Jasai. “You played a good game and kept me from him. I’ll be punished for my failure, but praised for my attention to duty now.”

“Don’t, Inyr.” Keles let his shoulder bags slip to the floor as he stepped onto the balcony. He knew he couldn’t reach her fast enough to stop her from slitting Jasai’s throat, but he had to try something. “Let her live, I’ll remain here forever. You’ll just have to get us to safety-which means away from here.”

“So you can escape later?” The assassin slowly shook her head. “I’m not a fool.”

“Then you should realize that if we don’t go immediately, we’re all going to die.”

She stared at him and laughed. “I’m not going to die.”

Her defiant expression never had a chance to fade. Long dark fingers shot over her forehead and clamped down over her face. Her head twisted sharply to the right and her neck cracked audibly. The clang of her dagger hitting the balcony floor covered the soft thump of her body falling beside it.

Jasai sank to her knees and scrambled for the dagger with both hands as the Viruk grabbed the balustrade and vaulted over it. He landed in a crouch, his talons clicking against the stone. His left hand closed over Jasai’s, engulfing them and the dagger.

The Viruk smiled, his ivory teeth a ghostly presence in the moonlight. “If she is yours, Keles Anturasi, I will bring her, but we have to travel fast.”

“Rekarafi?” Keles’ mouth hung open. “How did you…?”

“I followed you from Moriande to Solaeth. Tracking you here was nothing.”

Jasai, still shaken, tried to pull her hands free. “Who is this?”

“A Viruk friend of mine who’s earning a pile of white stones.” Keles gathered up his gear. “This is Princess Jasai, Pyrust’s wife. She’s coming. We’ll take the stairs inside.”

Rekarafi released Jasai’s hands, then pointed down to the garden. “Meet me. Be quick.”

“Outside the library, right.” As the Viruk slid over the railing and disappeared again, Keles grabbed Jasai’s hand and pulled her back into her chambers. “We have to go, fast. Felarati is under attack.”

“Who?”

“It doesn’t matter. With the defenses the way they are, two beggars with three good legs and a crutch between them could have kicked the city to pieces.” Keles hurried her down the stairs and batted one of the black-furred monkey creatures out of the way. The two of them ran to the library, then out and down steps leading to the garden below.

Keles stopped short and gaped. Jasai tore her hand from his and ran forward. They both shouted, “Tyressa!” but their tones differed as much as their reactions did. The cartographer remained frozen in place while Jasai flew to the tall Keru and embraced her.

Keles watched the two of them hug. His mouth gaped in joy and disbelief. It was Tyressa, she’d survived. Survived and come all this way.

He shook his head to clear it. “You’re alive?”

Tyressa released the younger woman, hurried to Keles. She stared at him for a heartbeat or two, then grabbed him and hugged him tightly. He hugged her back, reassured by her warmth and scent that she truly was alive.

“How is it possible?”

She released him and laughed. “What, Keles? That I’m alive, or I know Jasai?”

“Alive; both.”

Rekarafi growled and sniffed the air. “They’re of the same blood, Keles. And now we have to move or we shall die.”

“Right, right.”

They ran to the garden’s west wall. The Viruk boosted Keles to the top and he leaped down easily. Tyressa came next and tossed him her spear before she leaped to the ground. Lastly, Rekarafi reached the top of the wall with Jasai in his arms.

“Careful, she’s pregnant.”

The Viruk sniffed again. “I know.” He leaped down effortlessly, then they all started running west. Quickly, they merged with a throng of terrified citizens. Mothers clasped wailing infants to their breast, while toddlers screamed for lost parents. Tired old men and women ushered along grandchildren and great-grandchildren. Keles and his group passed through them quickly, more by dint of the fact that they were in their prime than that they had the Princess or a Viruk with them-though neither fact went without notice.

The crowd’s progress slowed, then stopped, but Keles forced his way through to the front. The road had been blocked with two overturned wagons, and men with spears and swords kept the crowd at bay. Across the road lay the walled compound of the Ministry of National Unity. Guards patrolled the walls, and a couple of bleeding corpses provided stark evidence of how serious they were about not giving anyone sanctuary.

Keles pointed at one of the guards. “I’m Keles Anturasi. I want to talk to Grand Minister Rislet Peyt immediately.”

The man sneered at him. “You’re the fifth Anturasi we’ve had here tonight. Go away.”

Jasai stepped up beside Keles. She pointed to the man standing in the first guard’s shadow. “I am Princess Jasai. Slay him.”

A sword cleared scabbard, but the first man dropped to his knees and bowed low. “Forgive me, Princess, I did not see you.”

“You should have opened your eyes.” She nodded to the man with the drawn sword. “Bring me Rislet Peyt, or his head, whichever is most convenient.” She stepped forward, resting her foot on the bowing man’s head. “Hurry.”

Keles looked from her to a smiling Tyressa. “Sister?”

“Niece, but I taught her a great deal.”

“I see.”

Rislet Peyt appeared on a balcony overlooking the intersection. “I regret I cannot receive you, Princess. The omens are inauspicious.”

“I understand that, Grand Minister.” Jasai raised her voice and chin at the same time. “I just wanted to thank you for the lend of your personal troops. If you survive the invasion, I shall return them to you, and praise their efforts to my husband.”

“You can’t take them.”

“You’ll have to come down here and stop me.” She shifted her foot, hooked it beneath the bowing man’s shoulder, and toed him back onto his heels. “Right these wagons, load those who can’t walk, and get your people out here. We’re going west and getting out of the city. Now!”

“Yes, Highness.”

“No! Do not move,” Rislet countermanded.

Jasai pointed back toward the fires in the east. “I guarantee you will die here if you don’t move. By the invaders or my hand, your choice. The Grand Minister cannot save himself, and he certainly can’t harm anyone who joins me.”